Hillary War Room: Resistance Is Futile

BILL: Ya gotta move now, darlin.’  We can’t count on a brokered convention anymore.  Biden’s toast, Bernie’s ticker is tuckered, and the rest are midgets.  Warren’s unstoppable--unless you act.

HILLARY: I don’t…cough-cough-cough-cough-wheeze-cough-cough-cough- cough cough . . . .

PAUL BEGALA: He’s right, my queen.  Declare your candidacy tomorrow.  I’ll instruct our media familiars to gush in approbation as they cover it live, with a five-minute tape delay to edit out stumbles, falls, respiratory episodes, brain freezes, and bathroom emergencies.

BILL: Good thinkin.’ Let’s put her whole campaign on a five-minute delay.

HILLARY: Shuddup, Bill.  Damn!  I’d hoped to avoid retail politics in Podunk coffee shops.  Maybe Lizzie will bow out once I throw my pantsuit in the ring, and I can skate to the nomination.

What, Serpenthead?

JAMES CARVILLE:  That dog won’t hunt, Missus.  She ain’t stayin’ on the leash.  She got the scent and she’ll run it down and get her teeth into the mudbugs in the gumbo pot before the moon rises over the bayou.

HILLARY: So, how do I supplant the Wicked Witch of the East and become inevitable within days after I announce my candidacy?

BEGALA: First thing, Sensei, make a short, powerful statement that you’re running for reelection against the usurper, Trump, and everything you do as president will be For … the …Children.  We can flesh it out in the fall, or not.

BILL. To lock you in, Honeybun, we saturate the airwaves and social media with the ad you wouldn’t let us use in 2016 against Trump.  Remember?  Your takeoff of Peggy Lee’s “I’m a Woman.” *

HILLARY: Only did it because Streisand persuaded me.  I thought it made me look tawdry, and why risk it because I was supposed to win big anyway.  

DAVID BROCK: Different times, Excellency.  It shows a side of you nobody ever sees, including us.

BILL: I just previewed the spot, Sugarlips .  It’s perfect!  Blows away your robotic persona by taking a page from Trump’s book. The rubes will see an in-your-face Hillary who’s PC-free, bold, brassy--and even a little sexy. And we did finally get a take without a coughing jag.

HILLARY: All right. Show me.  Better be the one I appear mostly from the waist up.

BILL: Run it, Paul.

I'm a Clinton

[On the monitor Hillary stands next to a piano chatting with John Legend at the keyboard.  She is rouged, red-lipped, and wearing a white pantsuit ensemble with three inch black pumps.  She turns and puts her hands on her hips. When the intro begins, she smiles suggestively and starts tapping her foot. The camera zooms in.]

I can BleachBit my e mails and laptops then flip a bird at the FBI
I can rake in cash as I please through my Foundation until the day I die
I can order the nets to sow talkin’ points like seeds across the land
Take a month off the trail, schmooze the rich in the Hamptons, return when I’m flush to beat the band
‘Cause I’m a Clinton! C-L-I-N-T-O-N, I’ll say it again

I can spew out a dozen lies and make you think they’re all true
Cuss an agent, rank my staff, and beat on Bill so he’s black and blue
Party with Cher on Saturday night, head home and drink til 3:00 a. m., and then
Get up at 10:00, eat steak and grits, go to church and screech “Amen!”
‘Cause I’m a Clinton! C-L-I-N-T-O-N, hear me say it again

If you come to me beggin’ you know I’m gonna make you pay
If you come to me with bad news you know I’m gonna ruin your day
If it’s pity you’re wantin’, I’ll slap you and shame you, you snivelin’ twit
‘Cause I’m a Clinton! C-L-I-N-T-O-N, hear me say it again

I can break every rule in the book from now to End of Times!
I can laugh at Congress skirt the law commit a host of crimes
I got a history of payback that proves there’s nobody I can’t screw
I can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear but I can make dupes outta you
'Cause I'm a Clinton! C-L-I-N-T-O-N, hear me say it again
'Cause I'm a Clinton! C-L-I-N-T-O-N, and that says it all

HILLARY: I like it. Where’s Huma?

BILL: Off pouting somewhere. She wanted to include a verse extolling female genital mutilation and subjugation to Sharia, but we thought those issues could wait until after you’re elected.

BEGALA: Reverend Sharpton on line 1, your Eminence.

HILLARY: What’s up. Al?  I don’t care what Jackson told you. You will be my Secretary of Reparations.  Yes, a Cabinet position.  Contingent, as we agreed, on your guarantee of 70% turnout and 95% support in designated black communities.  Well, better get busy. [hangs up]
Ah, Huma.  Where have you been?

HUMA ABEDIN: Arranging for Anthony to be kidnapped and taken to Saudi Arabia to be stoned to death for unspeakable acts, my Liege.

HILLARY: Probably best, my dear.

BROCK: The Post is reporting we have a good chance at picking up the Senate and keeping the House, your Grace.

HILLARY: From your lips to g-d’s ears, if he exists.  Absent congressional obstructionism, I can do a better job of chipping away at the Bill of Rights.

BILL: Sweetheart, we’re seeing some softening in a vital demographic: one-issue abortion righters.

HILLARY: Troubling.  I’ll issue a statement next week supporting abortion up to six months after birth if the woman complains of sleep deprivation.

BROCK: We’ll have expired Democrats voting in sufficient numbers to put you over the top in Pennsylvania and Ohio, your Worthiness.  By a simple stretch of the imagination, they’ll qualify as absentee voters.

HILLARY: No argument there.  Let’s do more outreach to the disembodied. Huma, channel Betty Friedan.  Ask her to found the League of Dead Women Voters.  Brock, order up ten million Johnnie Cochranized bumper stickers: “If you’ve gone and died, don’t be denied.’’ Bill, use your mojo and book a rally at St. Patrick’s Cathedral on All Souls’ Day.

BILL: Precious, I don’t think . . . .

HILLARY: Shuddup, Bill.  I don’t care what you think.  Do what you’re told or I won’t let you vet the interns.

This is an adaptation of an earlier piece.

I’m a Woman

Original lyrics by Jerry Leiber, Mike Stoller

Grapes of Roth

Reprised from 2010 and maybe an inkling of where Democrats plan to take us should they sweep in 2020.

JOE BIDEN: Man, the wingnuts could smoke us in midterms. You nailed it, Boss; if they win, Boehner and McConnell’ll be drivin’ the bus while we’re sittin’ in back scratchin’ our butts.

OBAMA: Didn’t say that, Joe. Said I was “itching for a fight.” There’s still hope. Dan?  

PFEIFFER: The earlier we go on the attack, the better, sir.  Soros’s PAC already cut an ad. Opens with a Latino woman breastfeeding her baby at home when Sheriff Joe Arpaio’s SWAT team storms in, arrests her for exposing herself to a minor, carts her to the Rio Grande, throws her in, and laughs as she paddles to Mexico.

The voiceover: “It’s 2015 and Republicans control Congress.”

OBAMA: Okay! What happens to the baby?  

PFIEFFER: Orphanage. Right out of Dickens.

JAY CARNEY: Here’s another, sir: on background, I’ll tell the anchors Boehner wants to discourage abortions by requiring women to register their uteri with HHS. That’ll get all the scandals off the front pages for a couple days.

BIDEN: I got one, Chief: a House Democrat switches parties then introduces a bill criminalizing the application of makeup while driving.  


OBAMA: Good. We go positive, too. Republicans are gaining traction on immigration and austerity. Let’s counter.  Eric?

ERIC HOLDER: Disband the INS and employ drug traffickers to police our southern border, sir; they know the territory and consider people smugglers scum.

VALERIE JARRETT: That would save us a bundle and show you’re serious about stopping uncredentialed landscapers infiltrating from Juárez and Tegucigalpa. 


OBAMA: No good. Streisand has her Shangri-La estate in Malibu where half those people wind up. I lose her, I lose Hollywood.  Besides, why stop the flow of irregular expatriates who’ll vote for me when I amnestitize them? Anyone else?

JACK LEW: Sell China drilling rights off the coasts of Florida and California, sir, then have our enviros tie up the deal in court. If the court rules for the companies, a DNC black ops team will blow a wellhead, setting exploiters back a decade. Your hands would be clean.

OBAMA: No way we can let those rigs produce.  Gasoline’s four bucks a gallon right now, a far cry from our $10 a gallon goal. Last thing I want is more product and lower prices.  

JARRETT: You haven’t responded to China’s offer to lease California and build mega-manufactories staffed by restive Muslims from Xinxiang.

OBAMA: I dunno. The Chinese say they just want “Made in the USA” tags on their stuff. Sounds harmless enough, but something smells wrong.  Stall them. John?  

KERRY: French President Hollande called, sir. He’ll accept return of Jefferson’s 1803 Louisiana Purchase and refund our $15 million payment, minus a 20% restocking fee.  

OBAMA: Tempting. Get rid of Texas and a couple other red states. That it?

LEW: McConnell and Boehner laughed when I suggested Treasury assume management of the trillions sitting in IRAs, sir. Too bad. The investments we might have made in America’s future!

BIDEN: Wienies. Argentina’s government had the guts to take control of the country’s private pension funds. Argentina! A tinpot regime shows the world’s most progressive declinin’ superpower howda do it.  

OBAMA: Jack, what about the windfall tax revenue you promised from this year’s one time Roth IRA “Pay the IRS now, profit later” conversion deal?  

LEW: The public hasn’t bought into the promotion, sir. Frankly, only an idiot would pay taxes proactively while you’re in office.  

JARRETT: Mr. President, why not go after the Roth trove itself? Most of that money’s owned by the richest 40%, people who don’t need the funds but invested in Roths to help their children and grandchildren evade responsibility for the fix we’re bequeathing them.  

BIDEN: Won’t work, Val. The Hill will never legislate a surtax on Roth withdrawals.  

OBAMA: Val’s not talking some measly 10% surtax, Joe. I want it all, Val.  How do we do manage that?  

JARRETT: Go Argentina one better: citing fiscal eminent domain, nationalize Roth accounts. Holder can drag out the court fight through 2016.  

OBAMA: Brilliant! With more money than God, I‘ll buy off enough legislatures to repeal the 22nd Amendment.  

LEW: Related matter, sir: Barney Frank says the Republicans are undoing all the damage he did with Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac during his tenure as Chair of the House Financial Services Committee. He wants a firewall to stop them.  

PFEIFFER: Barney’s right. Took years of neglect for Fannie and Freddie to become a bureaucratic rat’s nest. Republicans are cleaning it out.

OBAMA: I’ll appropriate those organizations and place them in trust with Treasury. Jack, recharter the two as “Fannie Mae"and “Freddie Mac the Knife,” the government’s fully owned “tough love” lenders [snort]. I’ll ask budget hawks Paul Krugman and John Kenneth Galbraith to serve as CEOs.  

PFEIFFER: Galbraith’s dead, sir.  

OBAMA: True. But when critics say his agency reeks of corruption, we’ll have a counter.